


Quietly Brilliant

by jujukittychick



Series: Merry Trope-mas [21]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Bruce Banner, Bruce is really good at science, Clint is kind of a mess, Clint needs a tutor, Fluff, Highschool AU, M/M, Rare Pairings, boys being adorably awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28210260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujukittychick/pseuds/jujukittychick
Summary: Clint’s struggling with his science class and his poor grades have knocked him into academic suspension, meaning he can’t be an active member of the archery team, something he has to participate in as he’s on track for Olympic tryouts.  Enter Bruce, a shy quiet teen who’s brilliant in science and has been recommended to tutor Clint. Neither of them is quite what the other was expecting
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Clint Barton
Series: Merry Trope-mas [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055879
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34
Collections: 1 Million Words' A to Z Challenge





	Quietly Brilliant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaige68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/gifts), [blackrose_17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose_17/gifts).



> For 1_million_words a-z challenge - Q, Merry Trope-mas Day #20: Highschool AU
> 
> Do you know how hard it is to think of something for “highschool au” when all the fandoms you primarily write for are about school kids? *rolls eyes* so yeah, this one took some debating.
> 
> For @backrose_17 and @kaige68 who both wanted Clint/Bruce. As with most of these rare pairs I’ve been doing, I’ve never really written Bruce, but we’ll see how it goes

“Mr. Barton, stay behind please.” As the end of day bell rang, Clint stared down at the bright red D- on his latest Science test, ignoring the amused “oooh” and snickers from several of his classmates. 

His best friend Natasha gave him a concerned look as she gathered up her belongings, “What did you do now?”

Clint pouted at her, “Hey, what makes you automatically think I did something?”

“Why else would the teacher want to keep you after class?”

Clint sighed and flashed her his test score, her eyes widening before giving him a disappointed look. “Clint…”

“I know! But I swear I studied, Nat! I just...I just don’t understand this stuff.”

As the rest of the class cleared out, she squeezed his shoulder and followed them. Gathering up his stuff, he made his way up to the teacher’s desk. “Yes, sir?”

His teacher finished writing something and sighed, pushing his reading glasses up on top of his head. “Clint, we have a problem. Your latest test score? Well, it drops your average below the requirement to participate in school clubs or sports teams. I’m going to have to notify your coach and you’ll be put on probation from archery.”

“What?! No, Sir, please! I can’t… I’m on track for Olympic tryouts; if I get benched now…”

“Clint, I understand, I really do, but this is a school and we have academic requirements that have to be met.”

“But…” Clint honest to gods felt like crying. He couldn’t lose archery, it was his ticket out of...everything. “Is...is there some kind of extra credit or, or something I could do?”

“I’ve talked to one of your fellow students about tutoring you. You’d have to arrange times with him, but he’s agreed to help. Given your special circumstances, I’ll speak with the principal and your coach. We might be able to arrange for you to still get your practice time in, but you wouldn’t be able to participate in any events until your grade gets pulled back up. I can also give you an extra credit assignment, a paper to write.”

Clint collapsed back in the desk behind him, resting his head on the surface for a moment as he got his emotions under control. Looking back up at his teacher, he smiled gratefully, “Thank you! Thank you, so much, honestly! I...I know you don’t have to do any of that, but I really appreciate it. Thank you!”

His teacher chuckled, “You’re very welcome, Clint. You’re not a bad student, and you’re not unintelligent, I think you just need a different way of learning the material than I’m able to provide.” Holding out the slip of paper he had been writing on, he continued, “That’s Bruce’s information. I told him I would be speaking to you today so he’ll be expecting your call.”

~~

Clint was glad that he’d gotten the news on Friday because he didn’t have practice at the school on the weekends to remind him how badly he’d potentially fucked himself over. He’d told Nat about what had happened on their drive home in his old beater car and she offered to help him study once more half-heartedly. Unfortunately, they’d found in the past that their methods of studying were a little too different to work for each other and they just wound up getting pissed off and yelling at each other by the end of a half hour.

So here he was, sitting on his bed and staring down at his cellphone and the scrap of paper with Bruce Banner and a phone number. He hated the idea of asking a stranger for help, putting himself out there for more ridicule than he already got from so many people around him. But his teacher had said Bruce was a student, so he’d probably seen him around and they just ran in different circles. Hopefully he wouldn’t be an asshole.

Dialing the number he listened to it ring, wondering if the guy was going to be one of those know-it-all types that gloried in explaining exactly how much smarter than you they were, or the type that would go off on tangents about obscure stuff that Clint had no possibility of ever knowing anything about all excitable. When the ringing cut off, there was silence for a moment, long enough that Clint looked at the screen to make sure the call hadn’t disconnected, then a quiet, timid voice said, “Hello?”

Wow, not what Clint was expecting at all, but he was suddenly scrambling to answer because he just had this feeling that the person owning that tiny voice might spook and hang up otherwise, “Hi! Hey, yeah, is this Bruce?”

“...It is.”

“Hi, this is Clint...um, Barton. Mr. F gave me your info, said he’d talked to you about…” And here Clint froze, hating having to say the next part, having to put his future in the hands of someone outside himself. 

“Oh, yes, hi. He, uh, he said you might benefit from a different way of learning the material?”

Clint laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, that’s a nice way of saying I’m too dumb to figure out what he’s talking about.”

“No, no I don’t think so. He wouldn’t have said those exact words if that was the case.”

“Oh. Oh, well, that’s nice I guess?” Clint rubbed the back of his head, remembering his teacher saying those same words to him earlier. Maybe he did actually mean them. “Here’s the thing, I _have_ to do well in this class. I can’t afford to be benched. I...I’m on track for Olympic tryouts and if I don’t get the tournaments and practices in, I won’t qualify.” There was a long silence, but Clint waited, once again feeling like Bruce was working out what to say.

Bruce gave a strained chuckle, “So no pressure then? Good to know.”

That pulled a genuine laugh out of Clint and he let himself fall back on his bed. “I should also probably tell you that I can’t afford to pay you or anything.”

“What? Oh, no, no that’s not a problem. I’ll get credit for tutoring for my college scholarship applications.”

“Oh, that’s cool then. So...so we’re kinda helping each other out then?”

“...Yeah, I guess we are.”

~~

Clint was cursing as he ran up the stairs to the library, his sweaty t-shirt clinging to him uncomfortably. Leave it to him to almost stand up his tutor because he got sidetracked at work. Tripping his way in through the front doors, he started looking around frantically, mumbling, “shit shit shit!”

Ignoring the librarian giving him dirty looks, he pulled out his phone, turning it back on now that it had a charge and noticing a text pop up telling him Bruce was waiting in one of the study rooms in the back. Hurrying his way through the rows of books, he found the window fronted study rooms, most of them empty, some with groups of people debating, but at the end, he saw a lone guy with dark hair, books spread on the table and glancing at the clock on the wall. Yanking open the door, panting slightly, he hopefully asked, “Bruce?”

The brunet’s eyes widened as he got a look at Clint, before seeming to shake himself and nodding. “Yeah, I’m Bruce. Clint?”

“Oh thank the gods!” Stepping into the room, the door bounced back and bumped him forward, except the excess tail from his backpack strap got caught in the door and yanked him back, making him bang his head on the glass door. Wincing, he freed his bag and stumbled into the nearest chair, noticing the now fearful look the other teen was giving him.

“Wow, are you okay? You…” Bruce tilted his head, big dark eyes wide as he stared at Clint, “You’re kind of a disaster.” Realizing what he’d said, his mouth closed so fast his teeth clicked and he shrunk back in his chair.

Clint just shook his head and laughed though. “You’re not wrong. Unless I have a weapon in my hand, I’m pretty much hopeless.” Watching those dark eyes grow wider, Clint realized what he said and hurried to explain, “No no no, it’s not what you think. I’m an archer, it’s what I’m specializing in. But I work at a shooting range so I’ve learned to use a lot of different types of long range weapons. That’s why I’m late, I was working and one of my students had some questions and I forgot to watch the time and my alarm never went off, and I found out my phone battery had died so I couldn’t even call you to let you know I was running late until it got some charge again and by then I was already half way here. I didn’t even get a chance to change, and I’m so sorry for…” Clint waved a hand and blew out a breath, collapsing back in his chair, “for everything.”

Bruce just tilted his head, giving him a long look, as if he could see something beyond the mess of a person Clint usually came across as. “You’re not what I was expecting. But I think this is going to work out fine.”

“Really?” Clint stared at Bruce in disbelief as he nodded shyly. Smiling brightly, he nodded too, “Cool.”

~~

The two of them spent the next two hours going over the areas Clint was having problems, and discussing the different ways he’d tried studying before. As shy and quiet as Bruce was, once he got started talking about science stuff, he really came alive, excitement showing in those dark chocolate eyes and his whole body just seemed to light up. Clint hated to admit his tutor was distracting him almost more than he was helping him, but he kept having to fight back the urge to run his fingers through the riot of dark curls Bruce had, one of them constantly falling in his face as he talked which he’d absently brush away with an aggravated pout.

And the other teen was _smart_ , like really really, like taking college level science classes really. But he wasn’t boastful about it and didn’t try to talk down to Clint or treat him like he was lesser because he was struggling with basic highschool science. He just seemed like such a genuinely _nice_ person and it made Clint wonder what it was that made him so shy and quiet. 

They’d kind of drifted to a natural stop for the time being but Clint was reluctant to leave, finding himself fascinated by the quietly brilliant young man across the table from him. Working up his nerve, Clint smiled shyly at Bruce. “Would you maybe want to go get a cup of coffee?”

Bruce looked at him with wide startled eyes, “I...I don’t drink coffee.”

Clint knew he couldn’t hide his disappointment, though he tried to keep a friendly smile on his face anyway, “Oh, of course. That’s fine. Of course you wouldn’t want to…”

“I do drink tea though?” Bruce shifted awkwardly, having problems meeting Clint’s eyes, but offered him a bashful smile. 

Clint sat up straight, a brilliant smile tilting his lips. “Seriously? I mean that’s awesome. Cool...cool. It’s a date then.” It was Clint’s turn to flash startled eyes at Bruce that time.

But Bruce just smiled, a small shy thing, but his eyes were warm as he looked at Clint. “It’s a date.”


End file.
